26 February 2015

I only went to
India and Nepal but travel wearies me more now as I age.

Airports and
planes annoy and bore me.

As I sorted
through my accumulated mail I was surprised to see an envelope from Israel.

Inside was a
hand-written letter and a wedding invitation from an Israeli lesbian couple I
met some years ago.

Their names are
Maya and Liat.

They were getting
married and I was invited to the celebration.

Fancy that.

I know many Jewish
people and have Jewish blood in my veins. From my mother’s mother side – which
apparently qualifies me as Jewish.

My children though
have much diluted blood and are not qualified as Jewish.

Suck ‘em Thomas
and Charlotte.

I met the Jewish
Israelis lesbians Maya and Liat only once – in the Club street district of
Singapore at a friend’s farewell.

He was returning
to the Untied Kingdom.

To the city of
Bath in fact.

Ironically he has
since returned.

There was no party
for his return.

Maya and Liat were
amongst half a dozen Israelis in who happened to be at the same venue as our
farewell group.

They were all
women and of various ages.

I was quite
surprised when they collectively announced to me when I said hello that they
were all lesbians.

I recall being a
little taken aback at this unexpected declaration and I didn't really know how
to respond.

I think that I
simply congratulated them.

I then told them
that I was a heterosexual.

It was a bit
strange.

Of the group I
mostly chatted to Liat and Maya.

They were then a
couple.

When I asked them
why they thought that it was necessary to tell me that they were all lesbians
they looked at me in a fairly blank fashion and said, "Because ve
are"

They were also initially quite aggressive and informed me that, "All men are
peegs".

I told them that
simply didn't make any sense and they got a bit arrogant and petulant.

Israelis are a bit
like this.

I quite like it.

When I enquired "Israeli men are all pigs?'

"Beeg
peegs" Maya
replied.

"You think
this too"
I asked Liat.

She shrugged in a
non-committal manner.

"I assume
that you both have fathers? Are they pigs"

"You are
calling my father a peeg?" Maya demanded. Her aggression was delighting me.

"No I am
just asking. You said all men are pigs"

"He ees
not a peeg"

I chatted for ages
with Liat and Maya.

They chilled out after
a while when they realized that I was neither drunk nor being sleazy.

I meant no harm.

They had then just
completed their national service and were doing a whirlwind tour of Asia before
going back to serve in the Israeli army.

I think they also
warmed to me when I told them of my Hungarian Jewish heritage

My Hungarian
grandmother was a mad woman.

She lived until
her late nineties and was as mad as a cut snake my whole life.

Perhaps her whole
life.

She was
certifiable.

I am very curious
about people who live in places where bombs are dropped and guns are shot at
people so I asked the lesbian Israelis what it was like living in a country
that was surrounded by Arab people who wanted to exterminate them. I have asked
other Israelis and Palestinians I have encountered the same question.

I am not sure of
their sexual preference - nor am I particularly interested.

Why the hell would I?We are not morally defined - in any way - by our sexual preferences.Grow up if you think otherwise.Bigotry is ignorance.

Maya and Liat told me that living
in a place where bombs regularly blow up was very difficult and stressful.

I thought it might
be.

I have already
made reference to the fact that I have talked about such matters to both
Israelis and Palestinians before and can only imagine what it would be like.

I often repeat
myself.

I often repeat
myself.

Living amongst
such constant violent conflict must be a real bitch.

It must be
terrifying.

I was surprised
when they informed me that they had many Palestinian friends and that they
thought that Israel should remain out of Gaza.

I told them that I
agreed that Palestine should be allowed to rule it's own destiny.

In the letter that
came with the wedding invitation from Maya and Liat - they informed me that
there would be lots of good Jewish food at the wedding celebration including
Borsch. They signed both the letter and the wedding invitation with their names
and, "See you later Alligator".

I taught the Israeli lesbians this when I last saw them.

We talked a lot
about Australian and Israeli sayings and slang and language in the Club Street
pub and I told them that an Australian farewell tradition was when someone
would declare, "See you later Alligator" the correct and polite response would be to
say, “In a while crocodile"

They Israelied it "In
a vile croocodile"

The
reference to the “lots of good Jewish food” in the letter was that much of our
last (and only) in-person conversation was about Australian and Israeli food.

Mostly
about Jewish food though.

I like
Jewish food

Most
people know that we Jews are forbidden to eat pig however few outside the faith
know that we are also prohibited to also eat hare or camel as well.

We are
only able to eat meat from beasts that are hoven.

That
has hoofs.

Or is
it hooves?

Curiously
the spell-check function on my Mac rejects neither of them.

Hooves
and hoofs.

I eat
a lot of bacon and ham.

I love
it.

I am a
non-practicing Jew.

I
attribute my love of Jewish food to the Jewishness that flows through my blood
from my mother’s mother’s side.

My
grandmother - the Hungarian mad woman.

I
attribute my love of bacon and ham to my Dad and his Dad before him.

My
relatives on my dad side were fishermen and priests who came to Australia in
the mid eighteen hundreds from Ireland.

They
were meat eaters.

They
were fish eaters too.

The
Israeli lesbians Maya and Liat seemed to like the fact that I like Jewish food.

They
were proud and patriotic.

“Ess Gesunt” – is the Yiddish for eat in good health

I like
challah and babka and matzoh ball soup.

I like
Gefilte fish.

I like
borekas and kugal and shakshuka.

I have
trouble with borsch though.

It is
an abomination.

Beetroots
in soup seems like a cannot.

“Cannot”
in the context that I have used it is Singaporean for I-don’t-really-like-it.

I like
Jewish latkes and sufganiyot though.

I like
Rugelach.

I like
a lot of Jewish food.

I like the sound of it as well and I enjoy saying it.It requires throaty enunciation.

The
lesbians Maya and Liat left an RSVP with their email address.

I have
already emailed congratulating them on their engagement and telling them I am
honoured and delighted to attend the wedding.

I
quite like weddings.

They
are celebrations of the union of love.

They
are joyous occasions.

The
opportunity to share in the celebration in love and joy don’t come along every
day.

22 February 2015

She is
really – or more accurately - and less poetically, I am standing here in her.

I flew
in last night.

From
Delhi.

The
New one.

Although
I actually drove through the New one - to and from my office however I stayed
each night in the Old one.

Delhi.

I have
written about the naming and re-naming of Indian cities under different Empires
and government so I will not repeat myself here.

I
couldn’t be bothered.

I
reserve the term “baby” for ladies I love.

I call
my daughter Charlotte “baby” sometimes – as much as I call her Totty I would
think.

Maybe
more.

I also
call my very favourite niece Georgina “baby” as well.

Sometimes.

There
are a few other persons I have referred to as “baby” but they shall remain
nameless here in this blog thing.

I do
not use the word liberally and I reserve it for the girls in my life that I love.

Special
ladies.

Enough
said.

So
would Kathmandu be a woman if she had to have a gender?

Which
she doesn’t of course.

Or he.

I was just
pondering that whilst tapping.

I do
that sometimes.

The
Nepalese refer to the tallest of their mountains as Sagarmatha.

It
means “forehead in the sky”.

Or
something similar to that.

The
Tibetans name it “ Chomolunga” which sort of means the Mother of Earth.

We
refer to at as Everest – who was some Welsh bloke who in the early nineteenth
century worked in a British surveying office in India and might have had
something to do with maps. He lived and worked mostly in Delhi.

The Old
one I would have thought.

He was
knighted.

Sit
George Everest.

There
you go.

Tibet
and Nepal share the mountain.

It is
that big.

Both
believe the mountains to be female.

Same
for me with Kathmandu.

If
Kathmandu were this beautiful vibrant “baby” that I love - as I kiss her I might also enquire,

“S’up baby? How are you doin?’

She is
a little shy in public at times but she is curious.

She is
cheeky and funny and has a wry sense of humour.

She is
very quick and really smart.

She is
quirky but most of all she is humble and polite.

She is
decent and she is respectful and she is very kind.

She is
sexy and she is beautiful.

She is smokin'.

She
would call me “baby” back.

The
bulk of the Nepalese people’s heritage is from villages. These are in high and
isolated mountains. The villages are communities who are in many cases very
large extended families and the bond between the people is strong.

They
are gentle and they look after each other.

They
are rugged and tough people.

Very
tough.

Think
Ghurka.

They
are proud people who know their history and celebrate their culture.

Through
song and dance and colorful festivals.

I sat
next to a Tibetan Herbal Doctor at the Snowland School Lhasar celebration
today. He was to my right in the front row before the stage.

To my
left was the Guru Rinpoche – the Dolpo Buddha. The Doctor and I and many others
were the guests of the Guru.

Here
is a picture of the Guru and the Tibetan Herbal Doctor and I:

Lhasar
is the lunar year celebrations for Tibetans. They are predominantly Buddhist people.

It is
the year 2142 in Nepal.

I know
why it is not 2015 however I will not reveal it here.

Look
it up yourself

I’m
not fucking Wikipedia.

Without
any prompting the Tibetan Herbal Doctor told me that his religion was of the
Bon.

I told
him that I knew the Bon pre-dated Buddhism and it was considered the oldest
religion in the world.

The
Herbal Doctor said he was surprised that I knew of the Bon.

I said
nothing in reply.

I only
know a bit of the Bon.

The
Tibetan Herbal Doctor comes from the same village as Guru Rinpoche in the Upper
Dolpo region of the Nepali Himalaya. The village was once in Tibet then the
Chinese invaded and borders changed. Borders have always been a little blurred
in the mountains.

There
are monasteries nearby that are more than 1000 years old. They have been carved
out of what Everest would have mapped the Crystal mountains. One of the
monasteries is Rinpoche’s.

It is
the Shey Monastery

Shey Gompa to be exact.

The
other two are the Saldang and Dho monasteries.

I
haven’t been there – I have only seen pictures.

They
are spectacular.

I
asked the Tibetan Herbal Doctor whether he treated patients with Yartsa Gumba
and he told me that he did.

He
told me he mixes it with other Tibetan herbs though.

Yartsa
Gumba is half animal and half plant. It grows
from the nose of a specific moth and only at extreme altitudes. It is one of
the rarest and most valuable commodities on earth and it only grows in the
Upper Dolpo and Upper Mustang regions. It is used in Chinese medicine and is a Cordyceps.

It is
a worm.

I have taken it.

I have
written of it before.

Once
again, I shall not repeat myself here.

The
Lhosar celebration and concert given by the children was spectacular. There was
much dancing and singing and laughing and clapping of hands.

The
children had a ball.

So did
I.

The
sun is setting now and the sky is pink. There is a chill in the air as the wind
blows down the valley from the mountains. From where I am sitting now I can see
the silhouette of the mountain Himalay Ganesh – the snow is still heavy on its
peak - and I can hear the distant sound of bells tolling and the chants of
monks before the taking of alms.